The evolution of a blog post (or the lesson within the lesson…within the lesson)

Yesterday I wrote a blog post called The Lesson Within the Lesson, after attending an unnerving yoga class. The post’s public appearance was rather brief.  The class wasn’t what I expected…a really chatty teacher, an anything but relaxing class. So often, when I’m in a situation that leaves me unnerved or in the presence of someone whose energy just rubs me the wrong way I find myself dissecting the encounter and trying to learn something from it.

So as I went through the class yesterday morning I tried to think “what am I supposed to learn here?” and came away thinking that the lesson was finding peace when the world around us is jarring…yeah, I went with that. And I came home and wrote a post, focused on the teacher and the effect she’d had on me. When I read it and reread it the language didn’t sound too much like me…it sounded kind of snarky. But, still assuming that I’d learned what I was supposed to learn I hit “publish” yesterday evening.

And the minute I hit publish my gut went into a twist. I went out and walked the dog and my pace got quicker and quicker as I hurried back to remove the post. Something about it wasn’t right and although I couldn’t identify what that “something” was I just knew. So I withdrew the post, deciding that I’d probably just pitch it and forget it.

This morning I went on reading the book that’s captured me lately, Richard Rohr’s Immortal Diamond. Some of the book has been way over my head but much of it has hit some really deep tender spots. The overall theme of the book is the search for our true self and Rohr approaches this from a very Christian and very human angle. One passage, in particular touched me deeply this morning:

“Next time a resentment, negativity, or irritation comes into your mind, and you want to play it out or attach to it, move that thought or person literally into your heart space because such commentaries are almost entirely lodged in your head. There, surround it with silence (which is much easier to do in the heart). There, it is surrounded with blood, which will often feel warm like coals. In this place, it is almost impossible to comment, judge, create story lines, or remain antagonistic. You are in a place that does not create or feed on contraries but is the natural organ of life, embodiment, and love. Love lives and thrives in the heart space.”

And there it was…the lesson within the lesson…within the lesson. When I relived the class I thought about the instructor’s wavering voice and how fragile it sounded. I took that teacher out of my head and into my heart and surrounded her with love and with that, I released my jangles. Layer by layer I found a quieter, calmer way of dealing with someone whose energy didn’t meet mine and just….let go.